


Urban Legend

by Arches67



Series: Meeting of heroes [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Person of Interest (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-03 00:17:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4079335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arches67/pseuds/Arches67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Machine pulls up the number of a blind lawyer. It turns out following him isn't exactly as easy as it should be…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Urban Legend

**Author's Note:**

> A/N. A Person of Interest / Daredevil (Netflix version) crossover.
> 
> Yellowstone69 wondered if I had gone mad…  
> Come on… Don't you want to see Matt and John team up and kick the bad guys' asses?
> 
> As regards time lines, Daredevil is at the end of season 1, so major spoilers if you haven't seen all the episodes. Person of Interest is somewhere along the second half of second 4.
> 
> This is set in the "POI" universe.
> 
> Beta's by Zendog, incredibly fast. Thank you so much. English is not my first language, so any error left is my fault.
> 
> Enjoy!

"Good morning, Finch" John greeted from the entrance to their secret lair.

Bear jumped from his blanket and came running; overjoyed at seeing his master.

Finch smiled and greeted his employee.

"Hello, Mr. Reese. Glad to see you." He cast a quick glance at the tall framed man. "I trust everything went fine."

John had been upstate for a few days to take care of a new number. Things had gotten a bit hectic and although he had assured his employer he was fine, Finch felt better now he could confirm it with his own eyes. The ex-agent had a tendency to downplay even his most serious injuries.

John knelt down to pet the eager malinois, rubbing his back affectionately.

"Yes, Finch. I believe I already told you."

"You'll forgive me if experience has shown that we do not necessarily share the same views on the extent of your… well-being."

John couldn't help a small amused smile. Behind his sometimes gruff exterior, Finch was a softy. Always worried he would get hurt. Patting the dog's head a last time, Reese rose to his feet and approached the old train window that Finch used to post the information needed for their cases.

"We have a new number," Finch announced.

"Yes, I see that," John mumbled as he looked at the picture of a young man with dark glasses.

"Matt Murdock, lawyer at Nelson & Murdock."

"Private firm?"

"Small lawyer office. Started very recently."

Finch put up picture of a blond man.

"Franklin 'Foggy' Nelson, his associate. They've known each other since law school where they were roommates."

"Which couldn't be that long ago. They look quite young."

"Indeed." Finch stuck up another picture. "Karen Page. She acts as a secretary and helps with cases."

"They can already afford a secretary?" John asked impressed.

"Actually Ms. Page was their first case. They helped her and she offered to work for them, for free." He turned to give him a paper. "Their offices are in Hell's Kitchen."

John grunted a little. "Idealists…"

Finch looked at him with a frown. "Considering our own enterprise, that remark is slightly upsetting, Mr. Reese."

John shook his head. "I don't have anything against idealists Finch. But if he is in danger because of one of his cases, he won't give up…"

Finch nodded. "I see your point. I trust you will find the right motivation."

He started to turn to his desk. "At least, Mr. Murdock should be easier to follow than our usual numbers." At John's raised eyebrow, he explained. "Mr. Murdock is blind."

"Hence the glasses. I was wondering why you had chosen that picture…"

Finch was back at his computer pulling up more information.

"Nelson & Murdock assisted Carl Hoffman, the detective that revealed the information that brought Mr. Wilson Fisk down."

"Yes, I remember. That was a few months back, right? Quite the mogul…"

"Considering the powerful allies he had, it is not unconceivable that some of them are after Mr. Murdock. We know from experience how people like Mr. Fisk can keep running their business from prison."

"You need a new chess partner, Finch?" John asked with a light smile.

Finch made a face as if he had bitten a particularly bad piece of fruit. "Hardly. Elias seems almost harmless compared to Mr. Fisk."

"I'll let you know," John said leaving the room with a wave of his hand.

* * *

 

Following Matt Murdock hadn't been very complicated, after all John knew the man couldn't see him which made tagging him that much easier. He had surveyed their offices, snapping quite a few pictures, until Murdock had come out with Nelson around lunchtime.

The man held his associate's elbow while tapping his white cane on the ground. Blue-jacking his phone had been easy. He then remained in the back not wanting to risk Nelson seeing him. The two men had lunch together then parted ways. Nelson took the direction to their offices, while Murdock went towards the court house.

Murdock moved alone with ease; clearly not needing the arm of his friend to walk the streets of New York safely.

John sat in the back of the trial room as Murdock defended a client. Reese couldn't help nod his head in admiration as the lawyer presented the case with arguments that could hardly be turned down. Deliberations were postponed, but from the looks of the judge and jury, the man had made a thorough impression and his client would probably be cleared.

John kept following the young man as he stepped outside and went towards Hell's Kitchen.

Now that Murdock was alone, John got closer to the man, studying how he made his way through the maze of people, a bit astounded by the fluid moves of his feet. He touched his ear piece.

"Finch, is Murdock blind from birth?"

"No. He had an accident when he was nine. A truck with chemicals products turned over. Young Matt saved a man from being killed by the truck but barrels fell from the truck and he had his eyes burned."

"Poor kid," John whispered.

"His father was 'Battlin' Jack Murdock, a boxer. He made sure his son had everything he needed."

John heard the familiar clicks of the keyboard.

"He made quite a nice amount of money on his last fight. That helped Mr. Murdock get through high school and law school. He was raised in an orphanage though; I can't find any trace of a mother."

"Perfect self-made man. He was pretty impressive at the court house, and honestly I am also quite amazed by how easily he moves around people."

"He's had lots of years to learn how to…" Finch answered with a sad voice.

He couldn't help feeling empathy for the poor nine year old kid losing his sight. Such a waste…

Murdock turned in an alley and John followed with a frown. He didn't know this part of town that well, but that street didn't really lead anywhere.

He never knew what happened. Once second he was following Murdock, the next he was on his back, on the ground, a folded white cane against his neck.

"What do you want?" Murdock asked in voice carrying strength that his body didn't seem to have.

Years of training and pure instinct had John react in a split second, grabbing the hand holding the cane and shoving the arm away. His opponent reacted just as quickly and landed a punch on his face that had John seeing stars.

"Stop," Reese ordered his head reeling. "I mean you no harm," he explained, spitting blood.

"Why are you following me?"

Murdock was still straddling him, a knee on his stomach and a hand on his shoulder ready to punch him again. John raised his hands slowly, spread out in a peaceful gesture.

"Let me explain," he said looking Murdock straight in the eyes even though he knew the man couldn't see him.

The lawyer didn't move for a few seconds as if trying to decide if he could trust the man; then rose slowly.

"You better not make any sudden moves," he warned.

John rose slowly and spat more blood, before using his handkerchief to wipe his mouth.

"You've got a mean punch," John commented.

"And you're good at tailing people," Murdock answered with a light smile.

"Not good enough apparently."

Murdock shrugged in apology.

John usually preferred to work in the shadows, keeping as far as possible from the number he had to protect, but it looked as if it wouldn't work that way this time. In cases like this, coming forward was inevitable.

Apparently the man was capable of defending himself, he didn't need John to shoot knee caps and clear the way. The Machine had to know that! It would have been nice to let me know John thought ruefully, wincing as his cheekbone smarted.

"Mr. Murdock your life is in danger."

The eyebrows rose over the glasses and an amused smile came on the lips in obvious disbelief.

"I have reliable information that clearly states you are being targeted."

"So what? You're some sort of body guard and you want me to hire you to ensure my protection?"

"Body guard?"

"I've never seen anyone get out of the choke hold I had on you… So obviously you have training in hand to hand combat. And you're in shape too…"

It was John's time to raise an eyebrow. How could Murdock read him so well? He couldn't help raising his hand to move it in front on the man's eyes.

Matt chuckled. "I don't need to see to feel your muscles under my knee."

John nodded then realized the gesture was useless. "I've heard of course how the other senses develop when one is missing."

"You don't know the half of it," Matt whispered almost to himself.

"Can we talk?" John asked. "In a more pleasant setting?"

The small street was littered with dumpsters and trash.

"Don't try anything."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

They left the alley and Matt put a hand on John's elbow.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Murdock asked at a loss.

"Why do you grab my elbow? You obviously don't need to."

"Force of habit, it makes people be more comfortable. You can't imagine how awkward people feel around blind people."

"You clearly deal with it well."

"I had lots of years getting used to it."

John led them toward a small park and sat on a bench. Murdock moved his head, obviously listening to the surroundings and then seemed to relax.

"No coffee shop?"

"Fewer prying ears; and I thought this would be less noisy. I'm guessing your hearing is pretty good, you must get overwhelmed sometimes."

"Perceptive."

"How did you spot me?"

"A little bit too early for that kind of answer, Mister…." His voice trailed off as he realized he didn't know the man's name.

"John."

"Okay… John," Murdock answered, clearly indicating he didn't believe the name was real. "Who wants me dead?"

"That would be the question."

"You're the one who told me my life was in danger…"

"It is. I don't know where the threat is coming from though."

"That's going to get tricky."

"Any cases that might have upset the wrong people?"

"There is always one disgruntled party when a case is tried…"

"Of course. What about Fisk? From what I gathered he has ample reason to hate you."

Murdock's breath hitched for a second; then he smiled. "I merely represented the man who agreed to turn against him and expose his crimes."

"So I have heard. Still, Fisk isn't some small time gang thief. His connections run deep. I'm pretty sure some are still out there, looking to get revenge."

"Being a lawyer means stepping on lots of toes, John."

"Some are dangerous to step on."

"I am blind. I can't see which ones I step on…"

John chuckled. He liked the way this young man lived with his disability.

"So what's the deal? You're going to follow me 24/7?"

"I'd rather find out who's after you and stop him before he decides to act."

"You're not going to let this drop, are you?"

"No."

"I could knock you out and throw you in some dumpster."

"I have no doubts you can; still you won't have the element of surprise on your side next time."

"Didn't see it coming, did you?" Matt replied with a chuckle.

"You can say that again," John answered rubbing a hand over his face. Being overthrown that easily, considering his own training, stung a bit.

"So you'll be watching from my roof over the next few weeks? I'm going to feel compelled to bring you coffee."

John had a light smile.

"Let's say that I believe you. What do you want?" Murdock asked.

"Make sure you stay alive."

"And how do you intend to do that? I think I've shown you that I can take care of myself."

"Still…"

Before John could finish his answer, Murdock had back flipped over the bench in a smooth motion and had an arm around his throat, a hand over his head. One gesture and he could snap his neck.

"Not. Funny." John said in a deadly voice.

"We'll need to discuss that surprise thing again," Murdock answered in an amused voice, seemingly unfazed by the tone.

John sighed. "You've made your point. Can you let me go? It's taking a lot of restraint not to react."

Murdock kept the hold for a few seconds as if studying him, then let go and came back to sit by his side.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to upset you, I just needed to make you understand."

John touched his ear piece.

"I'm with Mr. Murdock. He has made it very clear he doesn't need a body guard. You have any leads where the threat might be coming from?"

"Not really. It would help if we could have access to Nelson & Murdock's files. Identify possible enemies," Finch answered, wondering what the remark about body muscle meant.

John turned to Matt.

"Hello Finch," Murdock said slightly raising his voice. "Who are you exactly? John's associate? Partner?"

Finch froze in front of his computer. "Mr. Reese?"

"Mr. Murdock's hearing is excellent, Finch," John explained with a light smile.

"Apparently," Finch mumbled.

"Come by our offices, knock yourself out," Murdock offered.

* * *

 

Finch was seating in front of the computer in the small offices that housed "Nelson & Murdock". The bunch of old IT equipment gave a battered look to the place. Murdock had briefly explained his colleagues that Finch and Reese were helping him on a case. Nelson seemed a bit dubious but didn't make any comment.

Going over the documents was long and tedious, not giving any hint of who could be after Murdock. The practice was small, almost unheard of. The few clients that had requested their help had mostly chosen them because of the low price they charged.

Why would Murdock be targeted? Unless of course, he had some hidden agenda.

Finch looked at the books and documents in Braille. Easy to conceal information that way…

If Fisk was behind the threat, the chances of finding a clue was almost non-existent and the number of hitmen he could contact too scary to contemplate…

They had been working for hours. Nelson and Page had left long ago. John had turned on the lights when he had realized that Murdock didn't need them and would have probably gone on working in the dark.

Sometime during their study of the documents, a delivery man appeared. John opened the door, gun in his hand, only to face a young man holding Chinese take-out and a worried frown upon seeing the tall man at the door.

"Don't scare him, John. The dumplings in that place are the best," Murdock called from his desk.

John handed the delivery boy a couple of bills and took the bag, then locked the door behind him.

"If you know how to kill somebody with spring rolls I'd like to know," Murdock joked. He still found it difficult to admit that his life was being targeted.

"I've seen weirder things used as weapons," John countered. "Thanks for ordering though."

Finch kept working while distractedly eating from the box Reese put by his computer. He knew better than interrupt the man.

A while later, Finch put down his chop sticks and frowned at a file.

"What's the story on the Benton vs. Alter Inc. case?" he asked.

Murdock thought about it for a few seconds.

"Typical intellectual property case. Benton worked for Alter Inc.. He developed some high level compression/encryption program. I can't tell you much about it, IT is not my specialty. Issues appeared when Alter Inc. tried to register the patent. Benton claimed it was his own personal project, not one he had developed for the firm. We managed to prove he had indeed worked on that program on his personal time, not during office hours or with the company's equipment."

"Then how did the company even know about it?"

"Benton talked about it in confidence to some of his co-workers. Just a case of wrong ears close by. Someone from the company actually managed to crack Benton's personal computer and access part of the data."

"Can I borrow the file?" Finch asked. "I'd like to study this more thoroughly. Alter Inc. is on the NY exchange."

"The case is closed so I don't see why not."

"Thank you."

"Let's call it a night," John suggested.

"Can I go to my place alone, or are you going to want to keep watch?" Murdock asked with an annoyed wince.

"Make sure you're not followed. Lock your place." He sighed when he saw Matt open his mouth to complain. "I know you can defend yourself. But be careful, please."

"I will. I'll even call you first thing in the morning. How does that sound?"

* * *

 

Finch had of course gone back to their headquarters to keep working on the file. He felt he was close to something and wanted to keep digging. He had thrown John out when his employee had looked ready to stay.

In the early hours of the morning, he finally got a break in the story. From there, moving on had been easier.

"Oh no…" he muttered as he came up with another piece of information.

John heard the comment as he was arriving.

"What's wrong Finch?" He asked, putting a fresh cup of tea on his employers' desk.

"I think I found who's targeting Mr. Murdock."

"Never doubted you, Finch."

The IT genius rolled his chair back from the desk and stretched his throbbing back. He took a large sip of the tea in delight.

"Thank you Mr. Reese."

John sat on one of the chairs close by, waiting for Finch to tell him the story.

"The program Mr. Benton developed was exactly the breakthrough Alter Inc. Needed to diversify their business and increase their profits. A huge proportion of their shares were bought by a private fund, probably expecting to resell as soon as the prices shot through the roof upon the completion of the project. Of course, things didn't exactly go that way. Alter Inc. couldn't develop their new business line without the product, and Benton refused to sell them the program."

"So the fund never got to make the short time investment profit. They're stuck with shares whose value remains the same."

"Exactly."

"They didn't really lose any money. They just didn't make the huge profit they were expecting."

"I've studied how that fund works. It's not the first time they made that kind of bulk purchase. They seem to get privileged information, buy when the shares are at normal price, then sell when they're at their highest. They've been making huge profits that way."

"Up to now."

"They're not happy about it and they're going to great lengths to get even. I found out Mr. Benton had a car accident shortly after the end of the trial."

"Accident?"

"Brakes didn't function while on a windy road. Mr. Benton went over a cliff," Finch explained.

It seemed pretty obvious for both of them, that the "accident" had been a bit too coincidental.

"What about the program?"

"Disappeared." Finch turned to his computer. "My best guess is that Mr. Benton felt something could happen to him and had the data on a self-destruct switch."

"If he didn't log in regularly, the data was erased?"

"Something like that, yes. It is a pity. The information I managed to get about the program shows it was a real advance in terms of data compression. As you know, it is one of our biggest issues, to store more and more data in less and less possible space."

"Someone else will come up with something. You geniuses always seem to figure it out."

Finch gave a small smile at his employee's praise.

"So what are we looking at?"

"Hit men, paid by the man behind the fund to get rid of Mr. Murdock, seem to be a plausible explanation. Of course, we could still be looking at a threat from Mr. Wilson Fisk."

John's phone buzzed.

## Checking in as promised. Still alive ## the text said.

Reese had a small smile at the cockiness of the young man and dialed Murdock's number.

"Morning John," said the voice on the phone.

"We found who is targeting you," he told him not bothering with greetings.

There was a silence on the line.

"Murdock?" John called when no answer came forth.

"I honestly thought it was some sort of…" His voice trailed, clearly not knowing what to say.

"I'm coming to your place."

"I was going to the boxing club; I usually do on Saturday mornings before it opens to the public. I could use a sparring partner."

"A work out sounds nice," John answered.

"Fogwell's Gym in Hell's Kitchen. Meet me there."

* * *

 

John made it to the gym before Murdock. The boxing club had old advertisements on the walls. He stopped in front of one. "Creel vs Battlin Murdock". Matt's father's last fight...

"I remember when they stuck that poster on the wall," Murdock's voice said from the door. "I felt so proud…"

"How can you know where I'm standing?" John watched as the young man come in, folding his cane now that he was inside.

Murdock had a bruise on his forehead that hadn't been there the day before. John winced. Even though the man seemed quite aware of his surroundings, he probably had more than his share of accidents. Bumping into things was probably a fairly common occurrence.

"Easy guess… You seem to know a lot about me."

"Ready to throw some punches?"

"No real blows?" Murdock suggested.

"Works for me."

Both men got ready. John hadn't really planned for this, but he removed his jacket and shirt to keep only his undershirt. He placed the gun in his coat's pocket.

"You always carry that thing?"

"You can smell the gun oil?" Most people couldn't but Murdock had clearly enhanced senses.

"Pretty distinctive scent."

They jumped on the ring and started moving. They threw some tentative punches, getting the feel of each other. Slowly the adrenaline rose and the game became less of a game as they moved more quickly and the blows fell harder.

John was stunned by the way Murdock moved. He was amazing.

He thought back to how the man had managed a back flip from a sitting position in the park. Distracted he found himself on the ground after a fist had connected with his jaw.

"Oops, sorry," Murdock exclaimed. "Thought you were going to stop that."

"That'll teach me. Lost my focus for a second." You should know better, he thought to himself.

He accepted the hand Murdock was extending to help him rise and turned his head to the door. It had just been opened. Six men were standing on the entrance, and their looks clearly said they meant business.

"Six? Against a blind man? Isn't that overkill?" John shot before grabbing Murdock's arm and throwing them both out of the ring.

A shot rang and Matt hissed. John looked around him. His gun was by the other side of the ring, he couldn't get to it.

Murdock opened a wooden box by the side and handed him a couple of dumbbells. John nodded in approval. Turning to the opposite ends of the ring, the two men threw the dumbbells. Their correct aim was confirmed by the grunts and noise of guns falling to the ground.

Murdock jumped to the side of the room heading straight for the light switches. He turned off the lights. The old windows hadn't been washed in so long little light came through. Since he didn't mind the darkness, robbing everyone of that advantage was a sure asset for him.

Blinking at the sudden darkness, John ran to the side wall. The broom he had seen would come handy until he could get his hands on a gun. The hitmen split in two groups. Three to one, he had seen worse odds.

He threw the broom against one face while kicking back behind him. Fists flew, his precise hits painful. He grunted as he was thrown against a metal box, feeling the blood spill as the sharp edge left a gash on his back. A swift kick to the groin of one of the men jumping him gained him a few seconds and he threw the sandbag at the other's face. The third one was waiting for him. Feet squared, hands by his side, he was clearly baiting him.

Not a smart move. John's training and experience were meant for close combat. One on one was the best he could ask for. He quickly subdued his opponent, before going back to finish the two other ones, who were still on the floor.

Whilst fighting he had tried to keep an eye on Murdock. But the man clearly didn't need his help. His moves were impressive. He always knew where he was being targeted from. His fists were relentless; hits against his own body were ignored.

Grabbing a skipping rope, John tied up the men, and moved to Murdock. Two men were knocked unconscious close to the ring. The third was trying to protect his face from the pummeling of Matt's fists. A last punch finally stunned the man.

John put a hand on Matt's shoulder and found himself flying across the room after a foot had connected with his chest.

"Matt!" he yelled as his back hit the floor and making the gash burn with renewed pain.

Murdock froze; looking in his direction, fists clenched tight by his side.

"Damn, how can you move like that?" John sat up holding his ribs.

Matt winced and exhaled deeply. "Sorry."

"My fault, seeing the way you fight I forgot you couldn't see me."

"Too focused on the fight to realize it was you."

John picked up more skipping ropes and tied up the last three men, before turning to Murdock who was yet to move.

"How bad are you hurt?" he asked Matt.

"I've had worse."

"Yeah… About that… I'm missing something here," John growled.

"We all have our secrets."

John glared at the blind man, but he had his own, he could hardly blame him. Going to his jacket he pulled out his phone.

"I was thinking you had lost my number," Fusco's familiar gruff answered.

"You wish," John greeted back with a light smile. "I've got a package for you. Nice bows and all…"

"I need to bring knee braces?"

"Nope. Not a single shot fired… by me."

"Guns…" Murdock winced wrapping an arm around his chest, "are under the ring."

John cast him a look. How had he managed that?

"Finch will send you everything you need and you'll find the perps' weapons underneath the boxing ring."

"How do you want me to get those?"

"Fusco, don't expect me to do it all. I'll send the address," he concluded as he finished the call.

"Police?" Murdock enquired.

"Detective. He's okay."

He looked at Murdock. His hands were dripping blood, testimony to their different ways of fighting.

"Let's get out of here," he offered.

* * *

 

Matt had thrown an arm over his shoulder, but John wasn't sure who was holding who. They weren't that seriously injured but battered enough that it hurt; a lot now that the adrenaline had vanished. He punched the code on the vending machine and helped Murdock get through the opening.

"Steps," John warned.

Murdock extended his hand to the wall with a wince and went down slowly.

"Taking me to the Batcave?" he asked with a smile.

They made it down slowly. Finch gasped when he saw the two bloody men appear. Bear sat up and whined.

"Stay," Finch ordered to the dog. John looked like he didn't need an overeager dog jumping on him right now. "Mr. Reese…" he started.

"Looks worse than it is. If you could get us the emergency kit, though," John asked, ignoring the glare sent his way.

Murdock stopped, his head tilted as if feeling up the space around him. He moved his head again with a frown.

"Is this an old subway station?" he asked with a puzzled frown.

Finch raised his head sharply then looked at his employee. John shook his head with a light chuckle.

"Let's patch you up, then I think you and I need to talk."

"You need patching up too," Matt countered. "That gash on your back isn't going to fix itself."

John opened his mouth, then closed it again. They definitely needed to talk. He helped his charge sit down and opened the kit while Finch brought a bowl of water.

Matt hissed when John put his hand in the water.

"That's the reason I wear gloves," Murdock said with a wince.

"The way you punch… Did you father teach you boxing?"

A sad look went through the face of the young man.

"No. He wanted a better future for me. He made sure I did my homework."

John took care of the bloody hands first, bandaging them carefully then moved to the upper arm where a bullet had ripped the skin.

"It's only a graze. It won't even need stitches," John informed him while wrapping the arm with a clean bandage.

"Thank God for small mercies," Matt whispered. "I really don't like guns."

"Don't particularly like them myself. You just need to make sure to be on the right end…"

The cuts on Matt's face had stopped bleeding so he cleaned the dried blood. John watched the good looking face. Blind and handsome, getting girls in college had probably been a game. Murdock smiled, as always guessing what was going on in the mind of the person he was talking to.

"When we first met, Foggy immediately offered to become my wingman. Said I'd get him access to girls he never had a chance with."

"How did that work?"

"Well… the whole 'blind defenseless law student' really worked on chicks…" Matt admitted with a smile. "We were so young…" He sighed as if that time had been decades ago.

"You are still so young…" John protested with a frown.

"Some things make you grow old faster than anyone should…" He turned his head down in Bear's direction; the dog had approached both men.

"Matt meet Bear."

The malinois sat down and raised a paw. Before he could say anything Murdock had put a hand down to touch the dog's extended paw.

"How do you do that?"

"You just need to listen and draw conclusions." He smiled when John's silence hinted that he needed more explanation. "I heard him sit down and his paws scrape the floor. It was easy to guess he was raising one of them. He seems like a very well trained dog. What kind?"

"Belgian malinois."

"Like the ones used by the military, right?"

"Yes. Bear has actually been trained."

"I guess he comes in handy sometimes."

"Indeed," Finch confirmed. "Mr. Reese your injuries need to be attended to…"

John rolled his eyes.

"Need help?" Murdock asked. Guessing at the incredulous look on the man's face, he added, "I used to patch up my father."

Glad someone else was taking care of John's injuries as he really didn't care much for blood, Finch went to make coffee. The two of them would probably appreciate a hot drink.

A while later, both men were sitting on the couch, holding a steaming cup of coffee in their hands.

"So…" they both started at the same time and chuckled, then winced when their ribs protested.

"The way you fight…" John started not knowing what Murdock would be prepared to share.

"You're not bad yourself. Obviously military training." Murdock seemed to think about it, then whispered, mostly to himself, "not just a soldier… More like Navy Seal, maybe even Delta Force…" John couldn't help a twitch. "There's more to it…"

"Black ops…" He nodded. "CIA ?" he exclaimed in surprise.

"How…?"

"Your heart just spiked. You're so used to keep that secret that hearing about it puts you on edge."

"You can hear my heart?"

Murdock just shrugged.

"You could tell I wasn't lying when you knocked me down…" John murmured.

Finch jumped in surprise upon hearing the words and sent a murderous look in Murdock's direction. Numbers weren't supposed to attack his employee.

"You mentioned my having enhanced senses because of the blindness. As far as I'm concerned, it is really more a case of heightened senses. I don't exactly know if they are the sole result of my blindness or of the chemical products, but I get a pretty clear picture of everything that goes on around me."

"How much do you 'feel'?" John asked for a lack of better word.

"Everything. The voices, the breaths, the smells, the way sound rebounds or echoes against surfaces, the way the air moves around objects…"

"You found out this is an old subway station…"

"The tiles on the walls. It's a very specific sound. No noise from the street and we went down stairs, lots of them. It's just a matter of how you put what you feel together."

"The sensory overload… must have driven you crazy in the beginning. How did you learn to control it?"

"The first months were bad. I could hear everything that went on around me, I'd put my hands over my ears trying to stop it, but it didn't work that way. Then Stick came and helped me."

"Stick?"

"Blind, highly perceptive too. He taught me how to control it, how to fight. For a time…" A frown went through Murdock's face. "From there on, I taught myself…"

"Your moves are certainly one of a kind…"

"As you can guess, I do not spend much time in front of the TV or going to movies. Lots of time to train."

"What was that about wearing gloves?"

Matt smiled.

"Seeing where we are and the kind of equipment you have in this room I guess I can tell you."

"Equipment?" Finch asked in a slightly strained voice.

"All those computers running? What do you have? Your own surveillance system?"

Finch paled, forcing himself not to move or give away anything.

"I know how to keep secrets, Finch. Don't worry." He shrugged. "You'll have to keep mine anyway."

"Matt?" John prodded.

"Remember the press when Fisk was brought down?"

"Yeah, all those corrupt cops and politicians…"

"The front page of the New York Bulletin?"

Finch's fingers flew over his keyboard to search for the information. He raised an eyebrow and moved to the side to let John see the screen.

The silence stretched a few minutes as both Finch and John mused over the information.

"You're 'Daredevil'?" John finally asked in an awed voice.

He remembered reading about it but had discarded the news as reporters embellishing their front cover; then again he should know better…

"No. I'm Matt Murdock. Daredevil is just a name some reporter came up with. What's yours? 'The man in the suit'?" Matt joked, then opened his eyes wide. "Shit! That's you. I thought it was some kind of urban legend."

John winced. Two vigilantes in the same room. Root would have a field day.

Murdock sighed.

"I can't help hearing things. Hell's Kitchen has gone through a lot. If I can help prevent some of the bad stuff to happen…" He shrugged. "I can't go back now. I was given this gift for a reason. It's my duty to fulfil my destiny. I'm guessing we are similar on that aspect."

"You sound like a religious man, Matt. I, on the other hand, lost my soul a very long time ago."

"God will never give up on you. You can find salvation."

"Spoken as a true Catholic, how does that work out for you?"

"I've had more than my share of lattes with my priest…" Murdock admitted. He turned towards Finch. "You're the computer genius. You find out who needs help, right?" he asked.

"Something like that," Finch conceded.

"Finch likes his privacy. I don't even know where he lives," John said with a light smile.

"Some secrets are too heavy to be carried alone. I almost lost my best friend when he found out what I do…"

"Mr. Nelson…"

"He resented that I kept what I could do from him. He felt cheated. It's hard to realize you thought you knew someone for so long only to learn that person was constantly lying to you."

"It's a dangerous path you've chosen Matt…"

"You sound like my priest. And I don't see you changing yours…"

"Touché," John answered with a grin. "Just take care. I'd hate to see your number come up again."

"Number?"

"That's what we call the people we try to help," Finch explained.

Matt rose with a light chuckle and extended his hand. "Thanks for your help."

"I'll see you out."

"It's okay, I'll find my way," he said walking with confidence toward the entrance of the station.

Finch and John watched him disappear through the door.

"He knew I was lying about the numbers..." Finch said with a frown.

"Totally," John confirmed. "But I wouldn't worry. After all, Daredevil and the Man in the Suit are only urban legends."

* * *

 

The end

* * *

 

Wonder how Matt felt about his meeting with the "man in the suit"?  
Stay tuned for "Urban Legend too"…

**Author's Note:**

> And on with the second story:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/4121770


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